Proust
by Pied Piper
Summary: Taichi attempts a magazine questionnaire. [Oneshot]


**Proust**

* * *

Taichi attempts a magazine questionnaire. [Oneshot]

* * *

**Note**: The Proust Questionnaire is real, and fun. This oneshot, meanwhile, is deeply pointless. I'm sorry.

* * *

_Every day I'm coasting, living in the moment now  
__To every girl I ever ghosted, what goes around comes back around  
__Busting with the problems, head full of flowers, your man's looking sour, yeah  
__Everything is groovy, living in a movie, broke, but I'm bougie, yeah_

("Superfly" by Blessed)

* * *

**20a. What is your present state of mind?**

* * *

**02:19:46 Yagami Taichi**: present state of mind's the last one

**02:20:01 Tachikawa Mimi**: I am presently sleepy.

**02:20:22 Yagami Taichi**: no stay up with me

**02:20:54 Tachikawa Mimi**: I need to sleep!

**02:21:07 Yagami Taichi**: without me?

**02:23:18 Tachikawa Mimi**: I do a lot of things without you. I am very good at it.

**02:23:29 Yagami Taichi**: you're so mean

**02:23:31 Yagami Taichi**: let's get married

**02:23:38 Yagami Taichi**: hahahhaha

**02:23:45 Yagami Taichi**: obv not really my present state of mind

**02:24:02 Yagami Taichi**: wait i think it is

**02:24:11 Yagami Taichi**: mimi

**02:26:58 Yagami Taichi**: lol

**02:27:04 Yagami Taichi**: wanna?

**02:27:14 Tachikawa Mimi**: Are you fucking kidding me right now?

**02:27:36 Yagami Taichi**: hell yeah!

**02:27:42 Yagami Taichi**: come on

**02:27:00 Yagami Taichi**: marry me

* * *

**1\. What is your idea of perfect happiness?**

* * *

Sora wonders what she did in a past life to deserve such an entertaining present one. "And you thought that was a…_good_ idea?"

He throws up his hands. "I think we can all agree that I wasn't thinking."

She tries hard to pace her amusement, stretching the pleasure in her voice into a more respectful evenness. "Sure. What with such little evidence of your thinking at all, these days."

Taichi kicks her chair. "Why do I ever tell you anything?"

"Because your life is a mess, and you like making me laugh."

* * *

**2\. What is your greatest fear?**

* * *

Jou's face registers neither surprise nor curiosity, a response that Taichi feels he ought to find offensive. "You're really not going to help me?"

He doesn't think there's much to help with and attempts to make this clearer to him. "Well, you say it's been six hours without a response?"

"Is that bad?" he demands, terrified that he's presented a problem his most trustworthy friend can't solve for him. "It's bad. That's bad, right?"

He sips his tea with resignation, as if Taichi's predicament had come into his operating room dead on arrival, and proceeds to call it as such. "I don't think it bodes well for you, no."

* * *

**3\. Which living person do you most admire?**

* * *

She takes the opportunity to stall, suddenly and perhaps for the first time enthralled by the numerous cooking options on her trusty oven's rectangular operating screen. Who knew there were so many?

"Ma, come on! Just say what you—,"

Yuuko bristles. "I think I would be very quite disappointed in the mother who raised her child to do such a thing," she snaps, meaning the present interruption, though in hindsight she could see why he wouldn't think so.

He's stunned for a moment. "I—well, fine, but _you're_ the one who raised me," says Taichi, the temper he inherited from her firing back, "so what's this all say about _you_?" And then, yanking the phone back from his ear with a wince, "Ma! Stop screa—okay, okay, okay!"

* * *

**4\. What is the trait you most deplore in yourself?**

* * *

"I'm afraid she'll find out I talked with you about it."

"I understand, Ken."

"Which I know shouldn't be a concern, really."

"Yes, Ken."

"Except I like her."

"Right."

"And I like that she likes me. As friends, of course."

"Sure, yeah."

"So—,"

"—you can't help me," finishes Taichi for him. He's sympathetic, even at his own expense, sometimes. He sighs, "Right?"

"…I really, really like her."

* * *

**5\. What is the trait you most deplore in others?**

* * *

Keisuke's puzzled. "The last thing she told me?"

Taichi braces for the oncoming headache. "Yes, sir. I'm just trying to retrace some events."

"Well, now, let's see. The last thing was…oh, yes, she told me she'd gotten a sunburn."

"Sir, it's still winter."

"Right, that was the last thing she said to me directly, you see."

"Okay. But I didn't mean, like, physical speech, you know? What about when you last spoke?"

"She'd just gotten a haircut."

"So…the fall."

"Yes, that was the last time we spoke. By phone, of course, but, you know, Taichi, dear, we text each other all the time now, and I'm not sure why you're not asking me about the last time we got in touch."

Taichi pinches the bridge of his nose. "Well, this is all very helpful, Mr. Tachikawa, thank you."

Keisuke beams, flattered. "Anytime."

* * *

**6\. What is your greatest extravagance?**

* * *

"Of course, I know! She tells me everything," declares Miyako, but he knows by now not to believe much that comes out of her mouth when she's this agitated, especially about this subject. "She _always_ tells _me_ everything. I know what she thought she saw you eating last Christmas and how you looked when the results came back negative and what you told her mother that time you thought it was her bending ov—,"

"Where is she now, then?" Taichi asks, ignoring the gossipy tone.

Miyako's confidence wanes, ego bruising. "…Okay, so, she didn't tell me that."

* * *

**7\. On what occasion do you lie?**

* * *

Iori's measured in his response, wiser than any of them. "But if the idea is to say the first thing that comes to mind—,"

"No, no," interrupts Taichi, "it's not an association test. It's just a basic questionnaire, like, to help you take stock of your life. You know, your plans, your goals. That sort of thing."

"It doesn't particularly seem like you _thought_ about your responses, though."

Taichi glances at the string of text messages they're pouring over together. He points at an earlier exchange. "Nuh-uh. Look, there."

Iori reads the messages aloud in a monotone way that Taichi feels is uncalled for, "'About your cooking.'" He looks up. "That's an answer you thought about for a time when you've lied to her?"

"It was a joke!"

He doesn't hold back. "You're not always that funny, Taichi."

The chair screeches against the wooden floor. "Jesus, Hida—,"

"I can't lie to you—,"

"_Try_!"

* * *

**8\. Which words or phrases do you most overuse?**

* * *

Koushiro appears not to fully grasp the problem, and Taichi's tired of explaining his side. Were they or were they not all his friends first? (Is there a first with any of them? Suddenly, he can't remember—). "You're not leaving anything out?"

"What do you mean 'out'?" says Taichi, cross. "You think I'm trying to spin this?"

"I'm just trying to gather all the information."

"I've done," he interrupts. "Why's everyone acting like I'm at fault here?"

Koushiro pauses. "Well, when we lay out all the information—,"

"Look up 'rhetorical question' and find all the information about that, will you?"

* * *

**9\. When and where were you happiest?**

* * *

"Hikari, please stop laughing."

* * *

**10\. If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be?**

* * *

Her eyes are wide, rounded even more so by her chic spectacles. He's pretty sure it's a new set but admitting as much at the present point would mean demonstrating the tendency towards willful distraction that appears to discredit rather than endear him. "But how did you think she was going to respond?"

Finally, a fair question. "_Happily_."

Meiko squints, another gesture exaggerated by the spectacles. "Is that what you'd call this wall of silence from her?"

"It's only been—Jesus Christ." He gapes at his wristwatch. "I'm fucked, aren't I?"

She sips her tea. "_Sadly_."

* * *

**11\. If you could choose what to come back as, what would it be?**

* * *

"Well, of course, it's a _no_. Who would say anything else to something like that?"

Taichi despairs over ending up here. "When I turned you down, how'd you take it?" Jun's stare is so blank he suddenly suspects he should not have come to her with such a question. "Uh—,"

"I'll give you a few minutes to rethink this strategy of yours."

He hesitates, the doubt making him second-guess even himself. "You mean…asking about how you felt when I told you 'no' then, or now? It's—it's now, right? Jun—what, wait—don't, I'm just—_ow_!"

* * *

**12\. What is your favorite occupation (i.e. _thing to do_)?**

* * *

"No—no—n—,"

"—Mrs. Tachikawa—,"

"—no, no—no—,"

"—Mrs. Tachikawa, if you would just—let me—finish—!"

"—n—no—,"

"—ma'am—,"

"—_NO_—,"

* * *

**13\. What is your most marked characteristic?**

* * *

"Can I just say that I appreciate you not judging me over this?"

"Yes, you can say," answers Michael. "I like compliments."

Taichi rolls his eyes, even if he has to smile. "Well, that explains why you two get along so well."

"Tai, I'm still her number one on the speed dial."

He laughs. "No, you're not, we've been—," and he stops, his friend's serene expression jolting him back to reality. "Then…what number am I?"

Michael remains unaffected. "Before or after you sent her that text?"

* * *

**14\. What do you most value in your friends?**

* * *

"What do I do?" He stops, thinks better of it, and sinks into rationalism. "No. What would _you_ do?"

"Who cares?" Yamato, who has never needed to participate in imagined exercises, grows impatient. "That doesn't matter anymore."

He gives up, and slumps so the side of his head hits the chipped limestone wall. Yamato takes the cold, to-go coffee cup out of his hands and replaces it with a still iced brown bottle, and he uses his thumbs to ease the lip around to see the label. He makes a face, grateful for the distraction. "You still buy this shit?"

Yamato raises his own bottle and tips the neck towards him. "Shut up and drink."

Taichi does, but still looks to him after, wiping his mouth with his wrist. "And then?"

He looks like he can't see the question, or the need for one, not about this. "And then you marry her."

* * *

**15\. Who is your favorite hero of fiction?**

* * *

He spends the next hour steeling himself over Takeru's work desk, his forehead pressed flat to the cool, clean surface.

"Do you want anything? Tea? Water? A ride to _your _work?"

"I just want you to leave me here to die."

Takeru turns a page in his book. "You got it."

* * *

**16\. Who are your heroes in real life?**

* * *

"Dad, tell Hikari to stop laughing at me." Then he's yelling, "_Dad, stop laughing at me_!"

* * *

**17\. How would you like to die?**

* * *

"Honestly, Willis, no one is taking this seriously."

"So, instead…I'm supposed to?"

Taichi sets a stern glare at him. "You're meant to be a lifeline in times of crisis."

"Not in crises of your own making, mate." And he shakes his head, openly amused. "I'd sooner cut the rope than have you drag me down with you, not after I've finally gotten back in her good graces after the—shall we say—incident with Miyako."

He's flustered, exasperated. "One of these days, you're going to run out of your get-out-of-jail cards."

He squints, doubtful, teasing, "Before or after you run out of yours?"

"…Why do I tell any of you anything."

* * *

**18\. What is your motto?**

* * *

"I think I'm going to need you to recreate it for me," decides Daisuke in the end.

Taichi is too tired to argue very much further. "And why's that?" he manages instead, swallowing both a yawn and a scowl.

"This time," continues the younger man, "I'll be you and you be me."

"Dais, this isn't about you and me."

He pretends not to hear. Or, Taichi begins to realize, he really _hasn't_ heard it, conceived of its very possibility, or ever entertained any such likeness, as something in Taichi's life not being about himself. God, he really needed to pick more stable protégés.

Daisuke sticks out a hand, smile bright. "Hi, I'm Taichi, and I like wasting my girlfriend's time by making her do magazine quizzes because I don't know how to ha—,"

"And we're done."

* * *

**19\. What is your favorite color?**

* * *

Finally, he makes it back to his apartment, alone, spent, and miserable, to a geriatric cat who sourly licks her orange paw where she lays on the couch. He sits on the other end, digs out his phone from his pocket, and checks his messages again.

"Still nothing," he murmurs aloud to himself, or maybe to her. She peers up at him, tail swishing lightly. "Guess it's just you and me, tonight, old girl."

Miko blinks, vomits, and leaps off the sofa as she saunters off.

Taichi stares at the puddle. "Right."

* * *

**20b. What is your present state of mind?**

* * *

**21:04:19 Tachikawa Mimi**: Ask me again.

**21:04:36 Yagami Taichi**: when

**21:04:43 Tachikawa Mimi**: Anytime.

**21:04:51 Yagami Taichi**: now?

**21:05:05 Tachikawa Mimi**: Yes.

**21:05:09 Yagami Taichi**: ok

**21:05:17 Yagami Taichi**: so open the door

**21:05:24 Yagami Taichi**: i wanna ask you something


End file.
